


Distorted

by LeaXIII



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeaXIII/pseuds/LeaXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay could no longer be trusted. He was a ticking time-bomb, and it was only a matter of time before he crossed one too many lines and there was no going back. (Post-Entry 76.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Tim had just finished zipping up his duffel bag when he heard the knock at the back door.

He didn't move a muscle. Maybe, if he just stayed completely still, the world would just leave him alone for once, and whoever was out there would go away. Maybe he hadn't even heard anything at all.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Tim had almost managed to convince himself that the sound really had been merely a figment of his imagination, until there was another knock, louder and more insistent this time.

Walking slowly toward the door, Tim swallowed hard, trying to clear the ice in his throat before speaking. "Who is it?" His voice sounded small and drained, even to him, yet it was still much too loud in the small space of the empty kitchen.

"It's me."

Tim froze again, unsure of how he should feel about hearing Jay's voice.

After their last altercation, Tim had tried to call Jay's phone nearly nonstop, leaving countless unanswered voice-mails begging him to please just pick up the phone and listen, please let me explain, please, at least let me know you're  _okay_.

And then Jay had posted Entry 76. And Tim had known that Jay was beyond ever listening to him again, at least until this was all over and he could get help. And then it had been Tim's turn to not answer his phone, his turn to watch the number of voice-mails slowly increase until his inbox was full and he had to delete them all.

Of course he'd seen the tweets. As it became increasingly obvious that Jay was desperate to speak to him, Tim had even allowed himself to hope for a few fleeting moments that maybe Jay was actually beginning to understand why Tim had kept the tape a secret. Maybe Jay had realized that there was no way he'd be able to finish this on his own, and he really did just want to talk.

But then logic reared its head, reminding him of the way Jay's voice had torn as he'd stormed out of this very house, screaming " _don't follow me_ " in a manner that was so alarmingly reminiscent of Alex. No, Jay could no longer be trusted; that much was certain. He was a ticking time-bomb, and it was only a matter of time before he did something reckless, before he crossed one too many lines and there was no going back.

So he wasn't really surprised that Jay was now on his doorstep. But  _why_  did it have to be  _now_? Now, when he was literally just  _seconds_  from leaving to go to 79 South Creek Road. Now, when he was  _so close_  to ending everything, alone, because right now he needed to keep Jay as far away from all of this as he possibly could.

"C'mon, open up."

Jay's voice brought Tim back to the present.  _What the hell do I do now?_ There was no way to just ignore him; it would be impossible to get to his car without Jay noticing. And even in the best case scenario, Jay would just end up following him to the address. No, Tim needed to find a way to keep Jay safe until he could finally get him help, whether he wanted it or not.

Swallowing again, Tim reached out and unlocked the door, then stepped back. "It's open," he called, taking another step back. He clenched his hands into fists and backed around the corner, just as the door swung open.

"Tim?" Jay's voice was tentative, unsure. Tim thought about daring to sneak a peek around the corner as he heard the door close, but quickly decided against it.

"I just wanna talk..." Jay sounded a bit closer now. The dim yellow light of the kitchen caused Jay to cast the slightest of shadows; Tim watched the shadow move toward the carpet of the living room. As he sensed that Jay was growing dangerously close to his hiding spot, he took a deep breath and charged.

Beyond taking a flinching step backwards, Jay didn't move as Tim grabbed both of his wrists in one quick motion and, pulling his arms behind his back, pushed him face-first into the wall he'd been hiding behind. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tim found it odd that Jay wasn't really trying to fight back at all, especially since holding his arms like this meant that the camera was uselessly recording their feet.

"What are you doing?" Jay twisted his camera hand slightly, apparently trying to find a more comfortable position.

Tim didn't loosen his grip. He was immediately relieved that neither of Jay's hands contained a weapon of any kind, but that didn't make him any less wary of Jay's intentions. "Why are you here?" Tim asked instead of answering Jay's question.

"I told you, I just want to talk," Jay said, turning his head at what looked to be a rather uncomfortable angle in order to make eye contact with Tim. "Can you let me go? You're kinda hurting my arms," he added, struggling slightly for emphasis.

He seemed oddly calm, not at all what Tim had been expecting. Slowly, carefully, he loosened his grip, allowing Jay to wriggle free and turn around, camera (of course) pointed at Tim's face.

"What was that all about?" Jay asked, rotating his free hand in a circle and cringing a little when his wrist made a small popping noise.

"I just..." Tim fidgeted slightly. "I was worried that you were going to try and do something stupid after..." He trailed off, letting the unsaid words hang in the air.  _The tape._

Jay's expression became more serious. "That's what I want to talk about." He looked down and took a few steps into the living room, rubbing his eyes, before turning back to Tim. "Look. I'm...sorry about the way I acted last time I was here," he said, still staring at the floor, pointing the camera rather than his eyes at Tim.

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it. This was so far from how he'd expected his next meeting with Jay to go, and he was completely at a loss for what he should say.

"But you!" A flood of emotion flashed across Jay's face for an instant, but it was gone again before Tim could blink. Jay started to pace, and his rather erratic movements did nothing to ease Tim's already on-edge nerves. "You shouldn't have hidden that tape from me!" Jay said, still not looking at Tim, shaking his head as he spoke. "You  _knew_  that Jessica was the entire reason I'm still doing this." He stopped walking and placed a hand on the counter, glancing at the flashlight he'd left behind last time. Finally, he looked up at Tim. "How long?" he asked softly.

"The tape was in my jacket pocket when we woke up outside that shack in Rosswood," Tim replied. "I didn't show it to you because...well, I knew you'd react...the way you did." Tim exhaled, running a hand through his hair, and stepped forward to lean on the counter. "I knew there was no way either of us would be able to do this alone, and I thought that if you saw that tape...you'd blame me for what happened." The final text card from Entry 76 flashed through his mind.

Jay didn't respond, just nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the duffel bag on the couch. "You're going to the address, aren't you?" he asked, his tone stained with a hint of something like accusation.

"Yeah." Tim turned his gaze to the bag as well, avoiding eye contact.

Jay fidgeted, glancing at his flashlight again for a moment before resting his hand on it. "I'm going."

"Jay..." Tim shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I really don't think that's a good idea. I know you're not gonna like hearing this again, but you still need help –" Jay scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Look, you can deny it all you want, but I think you know as well as I do that it's true. Otherwise, you wouldn't have finally decided to make an appointment at the clinic."  _An appointment that I seriously doubt you ever went to._

Jay looked down, his hand still resting loosely on the flashlight.

"Please just...let me take care of this, all right? I'm..." Tim shifted again. "I'm worried about you. You remember what happened last time that... _thing_  showed up. I don't want you to be there if anything happens again."

Still not looking at Tim, Jay blinked a few times. He began to nod slowly, fiddling absentmindedly with his camera, which he had apparently set down on the counter at some point.

Tim let out a small sigh of relief and turned to grab his duffel bag.

_Wait._

Jay had set down the camera?  _Why...?_

Tim was just beginning to turn around when the flashlight crashed into his skull.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Well, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be._

Jay let out a breath of...relief? Disappointment? He set the flashlight down on the counter beside the camera and knelt next to the now-unconscious Tim, admiring his work with a sick sort of fascination. He was rather proud of himself; one of his plans actually seemed to be going smoothly for once, and he'd apparently gotten better at lying. Good enough to fool Tim, anyway.

He froze when he noticed the small amount of blood seeping into the carpet next to Tim's head.

_Shit. He_ is _just unconscious, right?_ Jay wondered, suddenly hoping he hadn't hit him too hard. Hesitantly, he placed two fingers on Tim's neck, letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt a steady pulse.

_Good. I definitely didn't want to kill him..._

He tried to ignore a darker part of his mind that whispered:

_Not yet, anyway._

Jay stood and adjusted the still-recording camera on the counter, turning it so that it could capture nearly the whole room. He pulled the zip-ties he'd brought with him from his pocket and began to search the room with his eyes.

_Is there some way I can keep him from being able to move around at all whenever he wakes up...?_

Finally, Jay's gaze landed on a wooden chair near the front door.  _That'll work_ , he decided. He hastily moved the chair to a new position, with its back resting against the wall between the living room and the hallway.  _After all, didn't Tim do the same thing to me at some point?_

Jay paused.  _No. I never got tied to a chair. That was Alex._ He shook his head, trying to clear it. The past few years had long ago started to blur together, but over the last few months it had gotten exponentially worse. He'd needed to re-watch several of the entries almost daily. With all the hazy memories and lost time, it was the only way he was able to remind himself that what was happening to him was  _real_ , that he wasn't going insane, even if he was beginning to lose events that he'd previously had no problems remembering. He glanced at his camera and shuddered at the thought of what he would do without it.

He snapped back to reality upon hearing a pained groan from Tim, who was beginning to stir a little. Jay mentally kicked himself for wasting so much time getting lost in his own head when Tim would probably be regaining consciousness any second.

With a bit of effort, Jay managed to drag Tim up and into the chair. He quickly fastened the other man's wrists to the back legs of the chair, with two zip-ties on each arm for good measure. Kneeling, Jay had secured one ankle and was reaching for the other leg when Tim suddenly opened his eyes and, without hesitation, kicked Jay hard in the chest.

The blow knocked Jay flat on his back, and it took him several seconds to regain his breath. He coughed a few times, cringing at the stabbing pain that the action brought with it, and briefly wondered if any of his ribs were cracked or something because  _damn that hurt._

As Jay slowly got to his feet, he returned his attention to Tim, whose face was twisted into a grimace, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The earlier blow to his head was obviously causing him a considerable amount of pain.

_Good._

Jay picked up the zip-tie he'd dropped and started to make another attempt at restraining Tim's right leg, this time careful not to place himself directly in front of him.

Tim jerked his leg away and kicked at Jay again. "Jay, what the  _fuck_?! What are you doing?" He seemed to be getting over his initial disorientation rather quickly.

Not responding to the angry shouts, Jay again reached for Tim's ankle, but he was stopped when Tim suddenly thrust his knee upward, hitting Jay in the face and almost definitely giving him a black eye.

Jay barely had time to register the pain before it was quickly overshadowed by rage. In less than a second, he was on his feet and grabbing the flashlight from the counter.

Before he was really even aware of what he was doing, he turned back to Tim, somewhat distantly noticing the spark of fear in the latter's eyes as Jay began to step menacingly toward him. "No, wait, Jay –"

The flashlight struck Tim's knee with a sickening sound, which was immediately drowned out by his scream filling the house. The sound caused Jay's anger to dissipate somewhat, crackling embers rather than a raging fire. He swallowed, letting the hand that was holding the flashlight fall to his side as he watched Tim's body shake with little gasps of agony.

_Am I really doing the right thing here?_

Jay took a few deep breaths, fighting to regain his resolve.  _Wasn't this my friend?_ he found himself wondering.  _This is the guy that I spent the better part of a year travelling with. This is the guy that used to give me the blankets off his bed when it was cold and the shitty hotel heater didn't work. This is the guy who, whenever he went out to buy groceries, would always make sure to bring back some kind of candy, because "with everything going on, we deserve to have_ something _simple to enjoy." This is the guy that took care of me for two months after what happened at Alex's old house._

_That's what_ he _says, anyway,_  another part of Jay's mind retorted.  _He medicated me while I was unconscious. Who the hell knows what those pills even do! For all I know, he was actually trying to_ prevent _me from getting better._

Jay's eyes narrowed.  _This is the guy who lied to me, and probably has been lying since the beginning. This is the guy that's been using me this whole time, dangling false hope in front of my face while keeping that tape behind his back._

_And he's the one responsible for whatever happened to Jessica._

Gripping the flashlight so tightly that his hand hurt, Jay stepped forward and spoke in the most threatening tone he could manage. "Unless you want to have that leg broken  _again_ ," he tapped Tim's now-injured knee with the flashlight, eliciting a slight whimper from Tim, "I would  _suggest_  that you hold still."

Tim glared up at Jay for a long moment before finally lowering his head in defeat. With a slight nod, Jay knelt down and picked up the zip-tie. Tim still struggled feebly, gritting his teeth against the pain that came with the movement, but within a few seconds Jay had pulled the zip-tie tight, effectively rendering Tim helpless.

Jay stood and took a step back, pausing for a moment to enjoy his sudden rush of adrenaline. His heart was racing, and despite the bruises that he could feel forming on his face and chest, he felt high. For once, he was no longer helpless; he was the one in control. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that almost made him forget why he was here doing all of this in the first place.

"Jay, listen to me," Tim began. Jay noted a slight quiver in his voice, like he was trying hard to keep his voice even and calm despite his current situation and the amount of pain he must have been in. "I know you're angry right now, but this is  _not_  the way to get answers. Just –"

"Shut up!" Distantly, Jay was impressed with how menacing he was able to sound. He attempted to ignore the twinge of fear that stirred in his stomach at the idea of what that might mean. "I'm done listening to your bullshit. There's only one thing I want to hear from you right now."

He bent down so that he was at eye level with Tim, uncomfortably close to his face, if Tim's squirming was anything to go by.

Jay's voice dripped with venom as he spoke through his teeth, punctuating each word into its own sentence.

" _Where. Is. Jessica?_ "


	3. Chapter 3

 

Jay was acutely aware of the warm blood slowly drying on the knuckles of his right hand; whether it was Tim's or his own, he wasn't sure, although the stinging that accompanied a quick flex of his hand suggested that it was probably a mixture of both.

"I don't remember." Tim grimaced as he said the words for the thousandth time, as if the simple act of speaking was enough to cause him pain.

And it probably was; Jay's eyes scanned Tim's face, noting the ugly bruises that were forming from his forehead to below his jawline, bruises Jay himself had put there. Tim coughed once, closing his right eye, the one that wasn't already swollen almost completely shut.

With a hint of something like nervousness twisting in his stomach, Jay glanced at the camera on the counter, which was still recording the room indifferently.

_Should I post this as an entry?_  Surely, his viewers, the only people that hadn't betrayed him so far, would understand. They'd seen Tim's lies just as clearly as he had; surely, they'd know why this was necessary.

"I don't remember," Tim repeated again through clenched teeth, as if saying the words enough would make them true.

But Jay knew better.

"You've been lying to me this whole time! Why should I believe you now?" Jay clenched his hand into a fist. "Even if you're telling the truth about when you got that tape, which I  _seriously_  doubt –" Tim started to speak, but Jay cut him off with a quick punch. "Even if you got it when you say you did, it was only  _after_ that that you even agreed to help me!"

Jay could feel that he was close to tears, which only made him more furious. He resisted the urge to punch Tim again. "You said you would help me find out what happened to her, when you already  _knew_! It was never about helping me, it was only ever about  _you_!"

"I'm sorry!" Tim said suddenly, surprising Jay. "I know I lied to you, and I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry. But I only did it because I knew neither of us could do this alone!"

Jay scoffed, shaking his head.

"Listen!" Tim continued. "I was gonna show you the tape after this was all over, I swear. But I knew that if you saw it, you'd blame me for Jessica disappearing, and that would make finding Alex, the one who's  _actually_  responsible for all of this, even harder! I'm sorry I lied to you, but blaming me for everything now isn't gonna do anything!" Tim let out a grunt as Jay punched him again.

"Just tell me where she is!" Jay demanded, his voice dangerously unstable.

"I don't know any more than you do!" The chair creaked as Tim leaned forward, his voice growing louder. "I don't even remember the parts that  _were_  on the tape! You should  _know_  that!"

"Stop lying to me!" Jay roared, punching Tim again with all the force he could muster.

It took a few seconds after hearing the crack of his right hand breaking on Tim's cheekbone before Jay actually felt it.

" _Fuck!_ " Jay doubled over in pain, cradling his injured hand. He gritted his teeth, an inhuman noise escaping his throat as his fingers brushed over a bump beneath the knuckle of his ring finger.

Jay forced himself to stand up straight again and started pacing furiously, waiting for the pain to recede so that he could think straight, past the string of expletives in his head.

_He should've told me where she is by now. What reason could he even have anymore for keeping secrets? This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to tell me._

Jay's already-swelling hand twitched slightly, and he let out a hiss at the new wave of agony, not even bothering to care about the hot tears that were flowing freely down his face now.  _And I wasn't supposed to break my fucking hand_. Distantly, it occurred to him that he wouldn't really be able to hold a camera now.

But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.

"Jay." Tim's voice was exhausted, weak. "Please. Just look at yourself. Look at what you're doing. This isn't you."

"Shut up." Jay didn't bother lifting his head as he kept pacing. He picked up the flashlight with his left hand, just to have something solid to grip.

"Listen, I know you!" Tim continued. "You're not acting like yourself! Don't you see what's going on, who you're acting like?"

"Shut up!" Jay repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

"You're acting like  _Alex_  –"

" _SHUT UP!_ " Jay swung the flashlight, hitting Tim squarely in the jaw. The left-handed blow was weaker than he'd hoped, but it succeeded in silencing Tim, for now.

_This isn't working_. Setting the flashlight back on the counter, Jay exhaled and looked around the room, ignoring Tim's coughing. He could feel the small knife he'd brought with him still in his pocket, but that had really just been intended as a last resort.  _I bet I could find something more useful in the kitchen,_  he decided suddenly.

Without another thought, especially not about what Tim had said –  _no,_ not _like Alex, definitely not, that's fucking ridiculous and fuck him for even thinking it and fuck him for bringing it up_  – Jay was in the kitchen, rummaging through a drawer with his good hand.  _Scissors, probably not so much..._  He froze when he opened the next drawer.

"Jay?" he heard Tim call uneasily. "What are you doing?"

The large steak knife was heavy in Jay's shaking hand. He gripped it tightly as he walked back into the living room; it wouldn't be very intimidating to drop it on the floor.

Tim's eyes widened when he caught sight of the knife coming closer to him. "No," he breathed, fighting against his bonds with newfound vigor. "Jay, don't."

Jay stopped walking when he was directly in front of Tim. He clutched the knife firmly at his side.

Tim's ragged breathing and futile struggling were the only sounds that could be heard in the house.

Jay raised the knife slowly, held it straight out in front of him, pointed at Tim. Tim didn't take his eyes off of the blade, and Jay could practically see the other man's heart pounding in his chest.

"Tim. Look at me."

Slowly, Tim obeyed, raising his eyes to meet Jay's, with an expression that Jay couldn't name. It was somewhere between pain and anger, concern and betrayal, fear and acceptance.

"Please." Jay's voice shook, as did the knife in his hand, and he hated himself for it. "Please, just tell me the truth, for  _once_. Tell me where she is."

"I don't know." Tim's voice was admirably calm, but Jay could see him shudder ever so slightly. "I swear, I don't know."

As Tim began to cough again, Jay was overwhelmed with a sudden memory: Rosswood Park. The tunnel. That  _thing_. Tim, unable to get up, telling him to run. Jay obeying, leaving him behind.

Tim flinched when Jay turned and tossed the knife onto the counter.

_Wait. Was that what happened?_  Jay shook his head, cursing his scrambled memories.  _Didn't he leave_ me  _behind? I remember him driving away..._

Exasperated, Jay turned his back to Tim and ran a hand through his hair.  _Focus. I'm here for a reason. Jessica._  He unconsciously tried to clench his right hand into a fist and winced, biting back a curse. He turned back to Tim, who had his head down and his eyes closed.  _If he knows, and he hasn't said anything by now, he's not gonna tell me._

Jay walked over to the counter, where the camera was still recording.

_The only other people who would be able to tell me where Jessica is are Alex and that freak in the hoodie._  Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture of Amy from the attic. He placed it face-down on the counter and stared at the address on the back.

_And I know exactly where to find at least one of them._

Jay silently regarded the knife in front of him before glancing over his shoulder at Tim.

_If Tim won't tell me...Alex will. I'll_ make  _him tell me._

Jay picked up the knife.

_One way or another, I_ will  _find the truth. I_ will  _find her._

Jay turned off the camera.


End file.
